


Charade

by CrabRabbit



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrabRabbit/pseuds/CrabRabbit
Summary: Your name is Dave Strider and you're living a lie. For as long as you can remember you've woven a false life, a fake story so your friends would accept you as a normal 16 year old. But secrets can be difficult to maintain, and lately your mask has been chipping. Everything is starting to crumble and you're not too sure where you'll stand when everything falls apart.





	Charade

You're sitting at the desk in your empty room, tucked away at the top of a run down apartment building in Texas. Like every other day you're glued to a broken office chair, staring at the computer screen in wait for one of your friends to message you. You've done just about everything in an attempt to distract yourself from the numbing loneliness, the constant hunger deep in your stomach. Bro has been gone for days, nearly a week, and you have no idea where he is or what he's up to. You can hardly bring yourself to care at this point.

It's complicated, your feelings in regard to your brother are very conflicted. On one hand you think you like him, he's your older brother, your only family. So you  _have_ to like him, right? He gives you a roof over your head, the internet and clothes. He provides for you, even if it is the bare minimum.

On the other hand he forgets to buy you food, or he doesn't do it in general. You're not too sure what one it is anymore. He leaves you alone for long periods of time and when he comes back he screams and hits you, calling you a plethora of different slurs. You don't know what you're doing wrong, but it must be something. He has to have a reason for doing all of this or it makes no sense.

He's supposed to homeschool you but he never does, never has. Honestly you're not too sure if the government is even aware of your existence. Due to your lack of general education you don't understand a majority of the things your friends talk about. You feel really stupid half the time because they easily converse about academics while you can't keep up. Of course they don't know this, you tell them you go to class everyday. Its horrible to lie but your fake life has gotten so out of hand that fessing up would cause some major issues.

There are days where everyone is busy, they have to ignore your frequent and often confusing messages to deal with real life. You get really freaked out when this happens, when they don't respond so much anxiety builds up in your core it feels like you could pop at any given second. During those times you realize you can't live without them. They're all you have, they're everything, without the support you're completely isolated and alone. So once they finally answer you're often incredibly clingy with multiple full length responses sent in one go.

You look at the clock, seeing Rose should be out of school soon. You've memorized all of their schedules by heart, it's what you focus on while they're out doing things that you assume are normal activities that come with being a 16 year old. You decide to message her, just to see what happens.

TG: hey rosey posey  
TG: you there ive got some totally stellar shit to tell you  
TT: I'm sorry Dave, my mom wants us to go shopping once I get home. I'll have to hear all about your stellar shenanigans later.  
TG: right ok  
TG: see you

You let out an annoyed groan and close the chat, shoving your face into your hands. Wonderful, now you're alone with your thoughts. That's always proven to be a fantastic waste of time. You know John and Jade won't be online for awhile so you decide to see if you can find something to eat around the filthy apartment. You really do need some substance, any fuel because every time your stomach growls you feel like you're going to throw up and pass out at the same time.

You stand and stumble to the closet, searching the nooks and crannies for any type of food. Sometimes you hide things so well you don't find them for weeks. It's always a fun little surprise when you come across food, and this time is no exception. Stuffed in the back corner is a nearly empty bag of Doritos that you grab and start eating without a second thought. You really want more, you're so unbearably hungry it's not even funny. But all of these thoughts disappear when you hear the ding of pesterchum. You jump up with the bag and run to the computer.

TT: My mother got too drunk to drive so I'm not going anywhere.  
TG: damn thats shitty  
TG: she does that alot  
TG: i mean youve talked about it before  
TT: I've come to expect this behavior. I swear I'm the more responsible one in this situation.  
TT: Anyways, what did you want to tell me?  
TG: oh yeah well i woke up and a shitton of crows were in my room  
TG: black feathered bastards everywhere nesting all up in my shit  
TG: im pretty sure one made a house somewhere in here im like the bird whisperer man  
TG: sometimes i hear them caw at night  
TG: just kidding  
TG: not about the birds but the last part

You're not kidding.

TT: Wait, you're telling me a flock of crows lives in your room?  
TG: yeah dude its chill they just hop around and mess with everything  
TG: kinda destructive though  
TT: You do realize this is not normal, right?  
TG: well yeah  
TG: but i dont care  
TT: Does your brother know about this?

You pause, you don't want to lie but you don't see any other options.

TG: hes cool with it  
TG: probably sees the deep irony up in here  
TT: What's ironic about birds taking over your room?  
TG: you just dont get it rose  
TT: Of course I don't, the Strider way mystifies all.  
EB: hey guys! I just got back from school.  
TG: sup jhonny boy  
TT: How was your day?  
EB: what do you think? shitty.  
EB: first period i had a huge test that i am sure i failed. then we had to do a mile run in gym!  
EB: i swear i can't take much more, i have 3 projects due on the same day. including a research paper!  
EB: my teachers just want to see me suffer.  
TT: Poor John, a slave to the education system.  
EB: jeez. thanks for the support rose.  
TT: It was a joke. I sympathize, I had a similar day only I had to present a project about ancient cultures. It would have been fine if my group wasn't full of complete idiots.  
EB: don't you think everyone is an idiot?  
TT: No. Just the majority of the population.  
EB: uh huh.  
EB: dave, how were your classes?

You stare at the screen, unsure of what to say. Instead of coming up with a lie you do something really out of character.

TG: chill  
TG: im gonna go  
EB: uh, okay?

You close the window and try not to lose composure. You don't want to lie to them anymore. It hurts, it hurts knowing that they think you're somebody you're not. That you live a life you don't. You don't go on webcam with them because you're so much skinnier than you should be, you always have bruises covering your face and neck, you haven't even sent them a picture of what you look like. You tell them bro thinks the government films you through webcams because the truth is much harder to explain.

You decide to lay down on the bed that's hardly a mattress anymore, having sunk to the springs and final layers of padding. Still, it's the most comfortable thing in the apartment by far. Taking a deep breath you try to rest, relax. You haven't slept in days so you're basically running on empty at this point. With a soft sigh you nest into the pillows and blankets until you hear the front door open and slam shut. Closing your eyes tight you flinch harshly when he yells, "roof, now!"

Strife.

In an instant your heart is beating right out of your chest, anxiety at a maximum. You scramble to your feet and fumble for a katana, apprehensively walking into the living room on high alert. There's no telling if he's hiding behind a corner or if he set up another trap that'll scare you half to death. Of course then he'll make fun of you for screaming like a girl. On closer examination you see he's not here so you make your way to the stairwell, slowly ascending to the roof where you always get your ass handed to you on a silver platter. Of course, before you can even see him you're knocked down to the dirty cement, "too fucking slow lil bro."

Knowing you can't quit you pick yourself up as he gives you a thumbs down. That's how you know shit is about to get serious, that he's actually going to hurt you. You're honestly about to throw up, you can feel your stomach in your throat, a bubbling nausea that only comes around when you hear the unmistakable clash of swords. As always you try your damnedest to keep up with his unrelenting blows but he knocks you down over and over without giving any break. Every time you block you flinch at the sound of metal on metal, gritting your teeth. You're shaking like a scared puppy, making it incredibly difficult to keep a grip on the katana and maintain your already sloppy footing.

"That's all the fight you got?" He says gruffly, obviously displeased and annoyed with your less than shitty performance. It's just so hard to keep up with him, especially when you're so tired and hungry. You're so scared and out of it you hardly process him slashing down. No suprise, you don't manage to block and when you feel your arm sting moments later you know you've been cut. Don't look, just keep trying to block and stay alive. If you look you'll shut down and break. You can't break, you have to get grip and fight. Fight because your life depends on it.

"Are you even trying!?" Bro yells, making you gasp and miss a dodge, getting another cut on your arm before he purposely slashes your shoulder and pushes you back. There's no wall here. Before you can even try to regain balance you realize you're in the stairwell, falling. Every step you collide with creates another dark bruise, the worst being when you slam your jaw against the metal grips. You finally hit the bottom floor and let out a hiss of pain. You can hardly move but that doesn't matter because you're dragged into the apartment by your arm and dumped in the living room.

Bro gets right in your face and calls you trash, an idiotic failure along with hurtful slurs and derogatory terms that feel more familiar than your own name. He makes fun of you for minutes on end, telling you how stupid every single move you made was. He makes sure you understand that you're a piece of shit before kicking you a few times. When he's done he leaves the apartment, you bleeding on the already stained floor.

Fuck.

Without your consent tears fill your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks. You try your hardest to will them away, forget about it, don't let this get to you, but it's failing. You swallow down the large lump in your throat and look at your arm, whining at the sight. Two large gashes create a bloody X on your forearm. This makes everything come flooding in and you let out a single sob, holding your breath. You don't know what to do.

With a twitching body you try to get to the bathroom where you can attempt to stop the bleeding. It's so difficult to move, you're still shaking violently, breathing so uneven that you feel like you're choking. Exhaling isn't an option anymore, you just gasp over and over, hiccuping. Still, with all your strength you crawl to the other room and use a dirty rag to try and stop the blood. Your shoulder is throbbing, shirt stained with red, some trailing down your chest.

Minutes pass of you sitting in the buzzing silence, trying to stop your bleeding. This is always so much easier when bro cleans you up but he hasn't done that since you were 13. Piece by piece you start to collect yourself, shove everything to the back of your mind. It's okay, everything's okay because you're not dead, you're still conscious. You'll live. Just gotta stop being a pussy like bro said. Act like nothing happened, convince yourself nothing is wrong. Forget the last hour and pretend you have the life you've made up for years.

In the end you decide to lay down on the filthy tile, not bothering with your bleeding injuries. If you die that's bros problem, not yours. God knows you don't have a preference either way. You just close your eyes and count along with the ticking in your head until you drift off and pass out on the cold bathroom floor.

* * *

When you wake up your entire body hurts, Its throbbing. Stiffly you sit up, rubbing your face. The movement makes your bruised arm sting and you remember the cuts. Looking down you frown, they're still completely open. You must have only slept an hour or so. Using the sink for support, you haul yourself off the floor and look at yourself in the mirror. You look horrible, not like that's any surprise but this is considerably worse. There's a purple mark on your jaw, bruises all over your torso and the gash on your shoulder looks raw and angry.

Sighing heavily, you turn on the shower and strip. Even though you know it'll hurt you climb under the water with a brave face. As soon as the warmth hits your injuries you groan in pain. It hurts so much but this is the only way you know how to clean the wounds, bro never really taught you much in the realm of first aid. He shoved a medicine box in your hands and told you to go to town, never explaining further. You wash your hair and body quickly before rinsing off to climb out of the shower. You always bathe in less than 5 minutes, you rarely have enough products to actually wash yourself and more importantly you don't want to raise the water bill. Bro would kill you.

After drying off you wrap the grungy towel around your waist to go to your room and get dressed. You have no clean clothes so you try to find something that doesn't look disgusting, even if everything smells stale and smoky. Once you're clothed you sit on your bed and stare at the wall absently. You're so numb, you don't know how much longer you can live like this. You're scared all the time, you live in constant fear. What if bro comes home? What if he never comes home? What if he legitimately hurts you, like life threatening shit. Would he take you to a hospital? Would he even care? Probably not.

Your stomach growls in protest of the lack of food and you gag, nearly throwing up. You know you don't have much to eat, next to nothing at all. The last time this happened you went outside and collected change until you could afford something from McDonald's. You're just too exhausted to will yourself to leave so instead of getting up you lay down, face blank and expressionless. Minutes pass, you becoming completely unresponsive until you start to nod off and lose consciousness, hoping for some sort of change.

* * *

Your stomach growling loudly wakes you up and you let out a completely unintentional sob. God damnit. You don't want to be awake, you don't want to be alive. You don't want to be in pain anymore. You lay there for minutes, trying to shove the hunger away. It won't go away, no matter what you do it won't go away.

At least if you die from starvation you're out of your misery. Literally nothing is fair, nothing. You just want to eat like a normal person! Is that really so much to ask? You hide your face in your arms and sob. Food is all you can think about, it's at the forefront of everything. You literally can't help the upset whimper that leaves the back of your throat. You're so,  _so_ hungry.

You decide to cave and eat the last of your food, you literally lunge to the closet and grab the last pack of ramen from its hiding place. You rip open the bag and start eating the dry noodles quickly. With each bite more tears roll down your cheeks and onto your lap, you really are out of food now.

You lay down and wait for the hunger to pass, it takes awhile but you eventually start to feel alittle better. Your mind is clearing, you can think about something other than food. This is when you realize you haven't talked to your friends in almost 2 days. They're probably confused, you're never offline for this long. You also logged off rather abruptly.

Weakly you get up, settling down in the seat before waking up your computer by tapping the keys over and over. The first thing you see are various mixed messages from your friends. You sigh heavily and check them.

TT: Dave, you left rather quickly, are you okay?  
TT: John and I are quite worried.  
TT: Message me when you get back.

EB: did something happen?  
EB: that was really unlike you.  
EB: at least talk to rose.

GG: dave! i heard youre acting weird.  
GG: you can talk to us! :(

TT: Where are you?  
TT: You're starting to worry me.  
TT: I know you're not telling us the whole story, and recently I've been suspecting that the story you're telling isn't what's happening.  
TT: We need to talk, everyone is really concerned.

It's been hours since these messages were sent, and you're starting to get pretty fucking nervous. Are they catching on? You don't know how you feel about that. You want them to believe your made up life. You don't want them to pity you, you're not weak. You can take this. You don't want them to feel bad and try to console you. You don't need that because you're a strider and striders don't let anything get to them. You're built for this lifestyle and if you can't take it you're not worth anything,

You're fine. You're fine. You're fine fine fine. You are completely, 110% fucking  _fine._

TG: hey sorry i got sick  
TG: couldnt really come to the computer but im cool now  
TG: i honestly have no idea what youre talking about though  
TG: do you think im lying  
TT: I don't think you're lying.  
TT: I just have a feeling that you're not telling us everything that's actually happening.  
TG: what do you mean  
TT: I guess we can start with school. I've gotten the impression that you're not going.  
TG: are you calling me stupid  
TT: That's not it at all.  
TT: I just don't understand what you're saying. You go to private classes?  
TG: yeah dude whats so confusing about that  
TT: Well, when do you go to class? You're online whenever any of us are, even at times I'm sure you should be in school.

Tears fill your eyes, you don't know what to say. You're in the middle of a lie and your blurry mind can't figure anything out. You stare at the screen for minutes, trying to come up with a response. Why can't you think?

TT: Dave?

You whimper, you're shaking so bad.

TG: i

Fuck, your hand slipped.

TT: Are you okay?

You're not okay, you're really not okay at all. You don't know what to do, the only thing you can focus on is the overwhelming anxiety. Your breath catches in your throat and you let out a horribly embarrassing whine. This is followed by you pulling your knees to your chest to panic into. Almost too easily you turn into a shaking mess of hitched sobs and hyperventilating. You're terrified, petrified. This has always been one of your worst fears and now it's coming true.

TT: Listen, we don't have to talk about this. All I want to know is that you're okay.  
TT: Please.

With shaking hands you struggle to type

TG: im ok  
TT: Are you sure? You know I'll listen if you want to talk.  
TG: im fine rose ok if i say im fine then im fuckin fine im fin e iam fucking fantastic ok ive never been more fine in my goddamn life i

You snap and kick over your computer, making it turn off. This triggers a set of responses. You wail openly, broken and gasping. You're not breathing, you can hardly see as you curl into yourself and sob. You cry and cry, letting out all of your pent up and bottled emotions. You fucked up, you fucked up so bad. You fucked everything up- they won't want to be your friend anymore.

You're so overwhelmed, it's outrageous how tight your chest feels, how much your head pounds and your throat hurts. It was only a matter of time, you knew this would happen. They'd catch on eventually and everything would fall apart. You don't want them to know how you live, how disgusting you are. You don't have clean clothes like they do. You don't have nice hair products like they do. You aren't healthy, you look like you're dead most of the time. Your cheeks have no fat, your hands look like bones and you're full of strife scars and bruises. You don't want them to know you're not good enough to hang out with them.

You can't let them see how pathetic you are.

* * *

TT: Dave please talk to me I just want to help you. I'm sorry I upset you, I don't think you're lying to us. I'm just concerned, I want to make sure you're okay.

There's no reply, he's still disconnected and you're starting to feel rather uneasy. He's never behaved in that manner, it was obvious he was incredibly upset, to a point you've never seen before. You don't know what happened that made him disconnect so quickly but you're worried.

He's been acting out of character for a few weeks. At first it was just occasional odd phrases, pockets of information that slipped out here and there. The things he said about bro stopped sounding like stupid jokes and more like the truth sloppily hidden in a failed attempt at irony. He's obviously struggling but it's impossibly hard to get through to him. He acts like he has no emotions when you're certain he's one of the most emotional people you know.

For some reason you think you shouldn't tell the others about this, he was so upset and you're sure he doesn't want anyone else to know he got like that. So you impatiently wait for his return, tapping a nail against the laptop trackpad. As you're thinking you can't help but wish he would give you his phone number so you could at least call him and make sure he's okay. His refusal to give you his information is just another thing that raises concern and confusion. You decide to write wizard fanfiction until he comes back online.

* * *

You wake up on the floor next to your desk, you don't even remember passing out or tumbling off of your chair. What a mess. You sit up and look around, it's dark and cold, the sound of the city filling your room. You need to put your computer back together so you turn on the light, squinting at the brightness. After setting up the tower you plug everything in, hoping you didn't break it in your idiotic state.

You hate when you get like that, completely out of control. You can never think though the hyperventilating and crying no matter how hard you try. The worst part of it is that rose got a wonderful snippet of how you act when you're overwhelmed and scared. You've never been overwhelmed or scared talking to any of them but apparently there's a time for everything. It is your fault anyways. It always is.

You press the power button and pray everything is in working order. When the screen lights up you let out a sigh of relief. It's okay, that's all that matters. You sit in the chair and stare as it slowly boots up and eventually flashes to the desktop. As you wait for everything to warm up you think about what to do. Rose will want to talk about what happened but you really don't want to.

You groan, rubbing your face. You're so dumb. You showed her way too much, you just can't help it. Every day is getting harder, it's so difficult to cope and your mask is chipping away more and more each time bro comes back and hits you. Even thinking about this is making you anxious. After a few minutes of staring at the screen you open pesterchum. Almost instantly you get a message from rose. What were you expecting?

TT: Are you okay?  
TG: everythings good  
TG: sorry about that i got alittle weird for a second there  
TG: but its all under control  
TT: Do you want to talk about it?  
TG: not really  
TG: can we just

You pause, fingers hovering over the keys.

TG: not mention this again  
TG: i obviously had a thing but theres nothing more to it

She doesn't reply for a minute, you holding your breath the entire time.

TT: I think we should talk about it.

Fuck.

TG: rose  
TG: its literally nothing like  
TG: im totally chill now so thats all that matters  
TT: Dave, none of your stories make sense. They don't add up.

You frown, feeling tears filll your eyes yet again. You don't want to deal with this. You're jumping right back into the same damn conversation that made you freak out. You take a few deep, orienting breathes in an attempt to calm yourself.

TT: I'm not trying to upset you, I'm just confused.  
TT: You don't have to hide things from me, you know that.  
TT: I can see there's a layer here that you're not talking about  
TG: you wanna know the truth  
TT: Of course.

With shaky hands you decide that you can't take it anymore. The constant lying, trying to make sure nobody notices you slipping. You can't do it. You just want a break, you want someone to tell you it's going to be okay. That you're not going to die alone in your shit apartment because more and more you're starting to think this whole living thing is a lost cause. Someone like you isn't fit to be in the world.

TG: everything is a lie  
TG: i made it all up  
TG: i dont go to school  
TG: my brother is a dick  
TG: you all always complain about your parents and ive been trying to tell myself that its the same but its not even remotely similar  
TG: i have nothing i have absolutely nothing and all of you have so much  
TG: you have nice houses and clean clothes youre really smart and you can take showers and im so so so fucking jealous its disgusting how jealous i am  
TG: you all talk about things that i cant relate to and i started making shit up so you would think im normal  
TG: i dont want you to think im disgusting or dumb i dont want you to know im not good enough for you i dont want you to know that ive lived my life through all of you for years

You whimper and cover your face, sobbing. Now you've done it, you really fucked up this time. You already regret this, you told her nearly everything, the only dot she has to connect is the fact that bro fails to feed you and likes beating you to a bloody pulp. She's so smart that's probably the next thing she'll figure out. The message sound brings you out of your trance.

TT: Dave it's okay.  
TT: We'll be your friends no matter what. You don't have to pretend to be somebody you're not. You don't have to try to impress us.  
TT: I like you for who you are, things like this won't make me like you any less.  
TT: Why don't you go to school?  
TG: dont know  
TT: Where's your brother?  
TG: dont know  
TT: Him doing this to you isn't okay, you know that right?

You don't reply, you just stare at the mouse. It might not be okay but deep down you know you deserve it. If you don't deserve it then there's really no point to this whole game. You're so fucked, she's going to try and call the police. You don't want bro to get in trouble, he's still your brother. You care about him even though he couldn't give less of a shit about you. Knowing you shouldn't say anything else you exit out of the chat and turn off your computer, stumbling to your bed to fall asleep.

* * *

You're exiting the bathroom when you see bro in the living room. He looks pissed and instantly you're terrified. On instinct you freeze as he approaches you, obviously angry. You don't know what you did wrong but when he grabs your hair and slams your face against the wall you know better than to question.

"I fucking hate you, you little shit. My life would be so much easier without you. Why the fuck do I have to take care of a brat like you?" He pushes you down and try not to make any sound as he kicks you a few times. As his shoe collides with your ribs you attempt to go out of your mind, ignore the pain. "Such an idiot, I'd be worth it if you could contribute something but you're just dead weight. You won't amount to anything, you'll kill yourself before you're 20 so why do I even bother?"

He pulls you up violently and it takes everything you have not to cry. It's so hard to remain neutral in situations like this. He's terrifying and you don't know how to make it stop. You're powerless. When he lifts you by the collar your shirt you nearly whimper, knowing what's to come. Seconds later he punches your jaw, making it crack painfully with a yelp. During this your shades abandon your face so he goes in for another hit to your eye. Before you can stop you're crying.

"Stop crying," he says seriously, kneeing you in the stomach painfully. All the air leaves your lungs, making you collapse at his feet. He spits on you, saying "you're a joke, a useless fucking joke. You're a failure as a strider, a person in general, you can't even keep it together. You're pathetic, I'm ashamed to call you my brother." He kicks you once more before leaving the apartment, grabbing one of the pop tarts he left on the table.

You whimper to yourself, sniffing while you try to breathe and stop crying. It's not working very well at all, instead you're getting worse. Your breathing picks up to an uncomfortable pace and your shaking intensifies. You curl into yourself, hiding your face in your arms to sob brokenly. You don't want to live like this anymore. You don't want to be hurt. You don't want to live in fear. It's not fair, why is it all so unfair?

You break down, nose bleeding onto your arm and the floor. You're so scared, you're afraid of what comes next. On one side you have bro who keeps getting more and more violent, the other is your friends who keep asking questions. They use to be a place you could go to feel safe, normal. You were so happy pretending, but you know even that is a lie.

It takes almost an hour until you can collect yourself enough to sit up. Your body aches with every movement but you struggle to stand. Your knees nearly give out the second you take a step. Eventually you wobble to the table, collecting the food he brought. You get back to your room as quickly as possible, hiding the items in your closet. Once it's out of sight you curl up in bed, wrapping yourself in a cocoon of blankets.

You pray to sleep and not wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> pls comment and give me kudos i'm starving for validation


End file.
